


The Road Behind is the Road Ahead

by Amuly



Category: EastEnders
Genre: Cuddling and Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Flirting, Fluff, Hair, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-07
Updated: 2012-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-03 23:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuly/pseuds/Amuly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Major</i> spoilers for episode 06-01-11!! *It'll take more than a quick press of hands to get Christian and Syed back on track. But both men are willing to do whatever needs to be done to make things work again. *</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road Behind is the Road Ahead

  


1.] Camp Cowboy

When the doorbell rang, Syed practically fell down the stairs rushing to get it. He stopped himself just short of flinging the door open, instead taking a moment to collect himself. He checked his hair in the hall mirror, debated one more time whether or not the maroon button-down screamed “desperate” or not, then opened the door nice and calm. 

“Hey,” he said.

From the threshold to his parents house, Syed smiled at Christian standing there on the front step. His heart leapt just a tiny bit to see Christian smiling back, surprisingly tentatively. Syed liked it. It was a good look on Christian.

“Hey,” Christian replied back. “You, uh. Ready?” 

Stupidly Syed stood there in the doorway a few seconds, wondering why Christian would ask him that. Then a nice January chill swept through Syed's shirt and he suddenly remembered. “Right. Just...” he groped behind him at the coatrack, barely even looking as he felt his hand close around his leather jacket and scarf. Christian was still smiling at him, a little more broadly now, and Syed didn't want to take his eyes off that sight for a second. 

Jacket and scarf successfully tugged on, Syed stepped out onto the step and shut the door behind him. Christian took a step back to accommodate him, but not a large one. Syed smiled up at him. “So: what's the plan?”

Christian shrugged and started walking, slowly enough to allow Syed to fall into step next to him. “Thought we'd keep it simple. Take a walk. Maybe get a hot chocolate.”

Syed's heart skipped a beat and his steps stuttered. He glanced over at Christian, wondering if... yes. The carefully-guarded emotion in Christian's eyes told Syed everything he needed to know. The plan for their date wasn't just a coincidence – Christian remembered the last time they had taken a walk and drank hot chocolate together.

“Let's hope they have marshmallows,” he croaked, throat feeling surprisingly tight. 

Christian's smile was blinding as they started walking again. “I checked,” he confided, shoulder bumping into Syed's. “They do. Cowboy.”

Then, when Syed thought his heart couldn't swell anymore and not burst, Christian slipped his hand into his. Syed ducked his head, glancing down at their entwined fingers as they walked. This was good. This felt right.

**

“This is you,” Christian said, unnecessarily. They were stopped in front of the Masood doorway – all the way up to the door, lest some prying eyes be peering through the curtains at them. 

Feeling more comfortable after walking and talking with Christian for hours, Syed chanced a small leer up at Christian as he leaned against the wall. “Guess I'm not getting lucky tonight, then.”

To his great relief, Christian laughed, shaking his head as he did. “No,” he said, sidling a little closer. Syed grinned and risked reaching for his belt loops. Christian didn't stop him. “You know me,” Christian continued, “I'm a nice girl. And nice girls don't put out on the first date.”

“Oh really?”

Christian's lips were inches from Syed's own as he whispered: “ _Really_ .”

They kissed, and... Syed sighed. It felt so  _right_ . So perfect. He tugged Christian closer without thinking, tongue sliding over Christian's and Christian responding back in kind, their mouths and bodies fitting together perfectly even after that time apart. Flashing lights were practically going off behind Syed's eyes as he shifted, opening his mouth more and re-slotting it over Christian's for better access. Christian's body was flush against his; his hands came up and combed back Syed's hair from his face. Syed whimpered, tugging desperately at Christian. He wanted more – he  _needed_ more. He'd always need more of Christian; he'd never get enough.

They parted, both men breathing hard against each other's lips as they refused to lift even their foreheads from each other. Syed shifted, nuzzling his nose against Christian's, eyes still closed. “Care to reconsider that whole 'nice girl' rule?” he murmured.

Christian laughed, but with decidedly less conviction than last time. “Sy,” he groaned. “You're killing me.”

But then Christian pecked him on the lips, just once, before pulling away and standing up straight. He tugged on Syed's jacket, ostensibly straightening it out. Syed liked to think maybe Christian just couldn't keep his hands off him, after that. Syed knew  _he_ certainly didn't want to. 

“I'll see you,” Christian promised. “I'll give you a call, okay?”

Syed nodded. Then, just because he could, he employed the big, brown, puppy dog eyes. Christian laughed, seeing them coming from a mile away. “One more?” he begged.

Even though he shook his head and laughed, Christian stroked his hand over Syed's jaw before pulling him in and kissing him again. Syed melted into Christian, hand trapped flat between their chests as he absorbed the feel and taste and smell and  _everything_ of Christian again. When they parted Christian pressed one more kiss to Syed's temple before pulling away with determination. Syed let him go.

As he walked backwards off the step, Christian winked. “Sweet dreams, babe.”

Syed smiled after him, watching him walk back to their –  _his_ , but not for long – house. “Of you!” he shouted after Christian. “Always!”

When Christian blew him a kiss from across the way and stepped into his own house, Syed stood for a moment, just smiling and smiling after him. 

2.] Superman

“Hey babe, sorry I'm all gross.”

Syed looked up at Christian just in time to be on the receiving end of a quick kiss on the lips. He wrinkled his nose, realizing too late that Christian had just come from the gym. Then Syed got a second look at Christian, and realized that “gross” wasn't exactly the word he would have used. More like... Syed let his eyes drag over Christian, his vest clinging to him in sweaty patches, his face flushed with a good workout... Syed's smile grew.

Christian didn't notice the attention for a second as he had his head buried in the Vic's lunch menu. After a moment he glanced up, ostensibly to ask Syed a question, when he caught Syed's eye. A grin spread slowly across his face as he realized Syed's interest. He leaned back in his seat, looking Syed up and down. “Maybe it's a good thing I didn't run home for a shower?” he teased.

Syed leaned forward, leering openly. “Well.” He kept his voice low enough that Christian had to lean forward with him, their faces inches apart. “I guess I kind of like the sweaty look. Superman.”

Christian's face lit up at the nickname, but as he opened his mouth to reply Alfie appeared at their sides, jubilant nature overshadowing any response he might have had.

“Hello you two lovebirds! How you doing this fine day? Ready for a lunch? I can get you started with drinks – orange juice if you like, Syed, Christian: not going for a drink in the middle of the day, right? So what have you; should I make that two orange juices?”

Both Syed and Christian ducked their heads and laughed at the same time, exchanging a look with each other over Alfie's unstoppable enthusiasm. A flutter went through Syed's chest as he locked eyes with Christian. They were good together. He didn't know how either of them could ever doubt it: they had the same stupid sense of humor, the same love of classic movies, a dozen other things that overcame the differences between culture and upbringing that might have stopped any relationship between them cold in its tracks.

Christian broke eye contact and turned up to Alfie. “Right, let's make it two orange juices and a glass of water, if you could.”

Alfie smacked the table with a grin. “Coming right up! You two enjoy yourselves, keep up with the catching up and all that.” With a wink and a smirk Alfie hopped away, off to pester another table. Syed rolled his eyes, but his smile didn't dim any. How could it, when he had Christian looking like the gorgeous hunk of a man he was sitting not two feet from him?

Christian seemed to catch onto Syed's changing train of thought, because a moment later his foot was sliding up against Syed's under the table. Syed looked at him, eyes teasingly narrowed. “What?” Christian asked, a picture of innocence. Like that was going to fool Syed. “See anything you're hungry for?”

Syed pressed his hand to his face to hide his blush, even though he knew Christian would see it. Regaining some composure, Syed dropped his hand to rest over Christian's on the table and leaned forward. “You know I do,” he murmured, “but it wouldn't exactly be appropriate in the middle of the Vic.”

The look on Christian's face was entirely worth the shot of embarrassment Syed had to get over to say such a thing. His eyes were dark, his mouth hanging open like he was ready for his own alternative meal right that moment.

“Here you gents go!” Syed groaned, releasing Christian's hand and leaning back as Alfie returned with their drinks. “So, you decided what you're having then?”

**

As Christian got up to leave, checking his watch and pleading a client he was already five minutes late for, Syed reached up and grabbed his wrist. Christian turned, question on his lips when he spotted Syed's expression. He smiled, tenderly, and bent down to press a lingering kiss to Syed's lips. Syed ignored Alfie's pleased cheers in the background, and instead focused on the feel of Christian against him, the soft, warm press of his lips to his own. When they parted Syed licked his lips, eyes trailing down Christian's shirt. “Second date?” he questioned, knowing Christian would get it without any further explanation.

Christian smiled but shook his head. “Nope, lover boy. Not yet. Good girl.”

Syed groaned and sat back in his chair. “Practically a _Muslim_ girl,” he teased.

Christian laughed at that, but still backed away. “Give me a ring tomorrow,” he called after Syed as he backed out of the pub. “My day off.”

Before the door to the Vic swung shut Syed was already thumbing through his phone to send him a text.

3.] Lusting After You (Not Being Able to Touch)

When Christian rang the doorbell at the Masoods, he expected Syed to answer it. He didn't expect Masood to answer the door with a terse “He's just stepping out of the shower”, and he _certainly_ didn't expect Masood to then invite him into the living room with a nod of his head.

Christian awkwardly took a seat on the couch at a gesture from Masood, hands folded in his lap. He hadn't gone through this whole “sit with the parents before the date” thing since... well, ever. Most of his teenage dating had been done behind his folks' backs, and behind his boyfriends' folks' backs. And by the time he was in his twenties and everyone he was dating was out, well, they were out of their parents' houses, too. Christian coughed and flexed his fingers. Masood was taking a seat. Damn.

“So,” Masood started. Christian wasn't sure if he should actually look at him. He settled for glancing rapidly between Masood and the mercilessly switched off telly. “I take it things are getting on between you two?”

Christian's eyes widened and he let out a breath. Oh, hell. He wasn't about to get a sex talk from Masood, was he? Or a “if you hurt him I'll hurt you” talk? He loved Syed, but that was asking a bit much. “Yeah,” he settled on. “Taking it slow, but. We're getting there.”

Unsure of how Masood might handle that information, Christian chanced a glance over at him. To his surprise, Masood was nodding, a thoughtful look on his face. Abruptly, the sound of a door slamming upstairs interrupted the awkward silence. “Christian! I'll just be another ten minutes – gotta get dressed.”

Automatically Christian grinned and shouted back. “Well, if you insist!”

In the silence that followed his cheeky remark Christian winced so hard he thought he might sprain something. Oh. Damn. Making sure his face was as contrite as he could make it, Christian turned to look at Masood. “Sorry, Masood. Didn't-”

Masood's expression was distinctly uncomfortable, but to the man's credit he forced a smile on his face and waved a dismissive hand. “It's all right. I...” Masood breathed hard, trying again for a smile and managing to look more natural this time. “Takes some getting used to, that's all.”

Christian smiled understandingly. That, at least, he could allow. For people like Masood it  _did_ take some getting used to. But the point was that they made the effort, and Masood was actually, really doing that. Christian appreciated it, and he made sure he told Masood as much.

“Yeah, well.” Masood shrugged, looking a mite more uncomfortable. “You saved me from that fire,” he said. “And I heard how you stayed with Zainab, making sure she didn't run in. You've been kind to both my sons, and I heard you've even made the – occasional – effort with Zainab.” Christian shrugged. To hear it listed out like that seemed odd. He had just done those things... because. Some of it was for Syed, but some of it was just the decent thing to do. No matter what some people would say, Christian knew how to be a decent person. 

“You're not doing half bad yourself, Masood,” Christian replied. “With how you're trying with Syed. I know it's a big adjustment, but.” Christian turned in his seat, glancing up the stairs. He could hear the hairdrier going. Syed was bound to be forever, then. He turned back to Masood. “And you know your opinion means the world to Syed. All the time you weren't talking tore Syed up inside. Family is the most important thing to Sy.”

Leaning back in his chair, Masood rubbed the back of his head as he took that all in. He shrugged after a moment, dropping his hand. “Well, you're his family, too. I'm beginning to realize,” he grumbled, but it was with a small grin on his face. Christian smiled back. “He was a mess without you, this last month. Hardly ever saw him smile. Now that you two are...” Masood waved his hand, just a little uncomfortably. “Well. Think he's going to crack a cheekbone, he's been smiling so much.”

Christian beamed. He knew he made Syed happy, knew they were right for each other... but it meant a lot to hear someone else see it, too. 

“And for what it's worth,” Masood continued, “you're a good man, Christian. Disagreeable at times, _infuriating_ others...” Christian smiled sheepishly. Yeah. There might have been a few choice words he would take back, given the chance. Masood shrugged. “But you're good at heart. I know that. And I can see how good you are for Syed. Just... no hanky-panky when me or Zee are around, alright?”

Christian laughed, bending his head down as his shoulders shook. It was then that Syed decided to make his grand entrance, glancing between him and his father in confusion. “Something I missed?”

“Naw, babe,” Christian reassured him, hopping to his feet. “Ready to go?”

Syed stepped closer to him, wrapping a hand around his waist. “Yeah. We're not late, are we?”

Christian checked his watch. “Nope. Movie starts at eight, we've got plenty of time. We might even get a row in the back.” When he leaned in to give Syed a leering kiss, Christian hesitated, pulling back and turning to Masood. “Uh. Holding hands,” he quickly clarified.

Masood's face was about two shades paler than usual as his eyes darted back and forth between Christian and his son. “Right. Right.”

Stifling laughter, Christian grabbed Syed's hand and dragged him out of the living room. On their way out Syed leaned close to him. “What exactly was that all about?”

Christian shook his head, still trying not to laugh. “I'll tell you later. Come on: before your dad decides to lock you in your room and never let us see each other again.”

**

Christian groaned as he pulled away from Syed, their lips sticking together for a second before letting go. It wasn't helped by Syed leaning forward, trying to recapture Christian's lips. “ _Christian_ ,” Syed whined. His hand – which had made its way under Christian's shirt at some point – stroked and squeezed at his chest. Christian groaned, nuzzling his nose against Syed's cheek and ignoring the inviting little kisses Syed was pressing anywhere he could reach. 

“Not fair,” Christian murmured. He was hard – they both were. They both wanted _this_. But Christian didn't want it _yet_. The amount of times Syed had hurt him, had walked away and said they were through or given him ultimatums he couldn't live up to... as much as abstaining was a punishment for Christian, it'd be one for Syed as well. And what they were doing was good: taking it slow. Christian had never taken the time to do things properly like this in his entire life. Things hadn't even gone slow with Syed at first. They were going to wait. Just a little while longer. 

“Come on,” Christian commanded. He stepped back from the alleyway wall, giving Syed some room to breathe. Though apparently Syed didn't want the room, because he just slumped against the alleyway wall, looking enticingly up at Christian from beneath long lashes. Christian groaned, shaking his head. He wasn't going to fall for that _look_ (even if it _was_ doing terrible things to his libido). 

Syed's fingers slipped to Christian's belt loops, tugging gently at them. “Your house is right there,” he teased. “I'm sure we could sneak in without my parents seeing.”

Christian laughed. “I'm  _pretty_ sure I saw your mum peering out from behind the curtains as we walked past.”

Syed groaned, batting ineffectually at Christian's chest. “And you've ruined the mood.”

“Why I didn't mention it before,” he pointed out.

With one last diva-esque sigh Syed pushed himself off the alleyway wall. Christian helped straighten his jacket, ran a hand through Syed's hair to try and make it look like it hadn't just spent the last half hour balled up in Christian's fists. Syed wiped at his mouth and laughed, pushing Christian off of him. “Okay, okay!” he laughed. “I'm going straight up to my room.”

Christian grinned, glancing down between them significantly. “Got something urgent to take care of?”

Syed pouted. “Well, I  _wouldn't_ if  _someone_ took care of it for me...”

With a shove Christian started Syed back off to the Masood house. “Not a chance! Get in there.”

Both men walked backward for a stretch as they shot each other teasing looks on the way to their respective doors: Syed's begging, Christian's rebutting. It was only when Syed finally disappeared into the Masood doorway that Christian turned and hurried to his own. As much as he had insisted on them going to bed separately tonight, Christian still had needs of his own to attend to.

**

The next morning Syed stumbled his way down to the kitchen, sleepy grin stuck on his face and hair in his eyes as he thought about last night. Christian had been... well. Syed's smile grew. Christian. It'd be wonderful, even if they had ended the evening on their own. Syed was happy to wait, to prove himself to Christian or whatever else it was. Though seriously, much more of this and he'd have to make a serious investment in some of the... _personal_ items he had left hidden in their house. 

“Good morning, Syed.”

Syed blinked, looking around the kitchen. Dad was there, looking much too chipper for the early hour and holding a mug of coffee. 

He turned, gesturing at the pot. “Want a cuppa?”

Syed nodded, still a little dazed. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Thanks, Dad.”

His dad nodded, shrugging as he sent to work pouring a cup for him. “Not a problem. Good to see you smiling again.” Syed froze, halfway to the fridge to sort something for breakfast. Oh, no. Dad seriously wasn't going to try and talk to him about- “Have a good time last night?”

Hurt flashed through Syed's chest. After all this time, and his dad  _still_ couldn't accept... Syed spun around, hand in the air. “And what's that supposed to mean?” he shot back. “I thought you were okay with me and Christian? Because if you're not, I'm  _not_ going to stop-”

“Hey, hey! Slow down!” Masood held his hands out, flabbergasted. Syed waited, still suspicious. So maybe he had jumped at that too fast. But he'd taken enough grief from his parents about him and Christian – he wasn't about to deal with any more. “It's fine!” Masood continued, hands turned palms up, shoulders shrugged up to his ears. “I was just asking how it went! God forbid I'm allowed to take an interest in my son's happiness.”

Slowly Syed relaxed, watching how his dad was smiling cautiously at him. Syed nodded, turning back to the fridge to sort out his eggs and more for breakfast. “Right,” he said. “Sorry. I wasn't sure...”

Behind him, Masood made a little affirmative noise. “Well, we haven't really made it easy on you before. But your mother and I  _do_ support you in this. Still not sure about the whole 'marriage' thing, but: we'll talk about it. Just give us time.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Syed saw his dad smiling plaintively at him. Letting out a breath, Syed smiled back. “Okay. Yeah.” As he took out the eggs Syed remembered his dad's original question. “And good. Last night: it was good.”

“Well, judging by the smile on your face-” Masood stopped, coughing. 

Incredulous, Syed turned back to his dad, watching as he blushed and scratched the back of his head.

“Well. I mean.”

Syed cocked an eyebrow at his dad's internal struggle. “It went good, Dad. Leave it at that.”

By an unspoken agreement, both men turned back to their own breakfasts, Syed doing his best not to laugh into his frying eggs.

4.] These Four Walls

Syed groaned, stretching on the silk sheets and feeling more content than he had in... ugh, _ages_. Christian's hand slid over his back, drifting lower and lower with each gentle swipe. Syed hummed, basking in the attention. “Ready to go again, tiger?”

Syed laughed, then jumped when Christian's hand turned less stroking and more squeezing. Turning his head to the other side, Syed glared at Christian, batting a hand uselessly at him. Christian just laughed and captured the hand, holding it to his chest and refusing to let it go. Syed let him, just as he let Christian's other hand continue its ministrations on his arse. It was erotic, sure, but Christian's hands were also so big and strong that it was like the world's most conflicting massage: relaxing and arousing all in one.

“I gotta go,” Syed grumbled. His heart certainly wasn't in the declaration, but he tried for a token protest. It was already too late: Mum was always waiting up for him after his dates, like if he knew she was waiting he wouldn't get up to anything with Christian. Now that it was gone eleven she _really_ was going to give him a _look_ when he stepped through the door, and he didn't want to deal with any more of her ire than he had to. 

Shifting forward, Christian drew Syed into a languid kiss. “No you don't,” Christian murmured into his mouth. “Come on: you're a big boy. You can stay a little longer.”

Syed shook his head, eyes already closed in an attempt at a quick post-coital nap. “Mum's waiting up. If I stay any longer she'll know.”

Christian's laugh vibrated through his chest and into Syed, piquing his body's reluctant interest again – entirely against his will, of course. “Have you seen yourself? Zainab's going to know I debauched her precious little boy as soon as you walk through the door. Your hair's a wreck,” his fingers twined through Syed's hair, massaging at the scalp. Syed hummed, pushing his head into Christian's in encouragement. “Your lips are swollen and red,” Christian murmured, pressing another kiss to said lips. Lazily Syed opened his mouth to Christian, letting his tongue plunder his mouth with more enthusiasm than Syed could muster just yet. “And the look on your face...”

At that Syed cracked an eye open, squinting at Christian. “What look?”

Christian's smile was soft as he gazed at Syed, almost caressing his face. “Like you're the happiest guy in London.”

Syed melted, slow and sure, into Christian's embrace at that. “Well, you're wrong about that.” Syed waited a moment, just long enough for Christian to frown questioningly at him. “Happiest guy in the UK. Minimum. Possibly the continent, too.” 

He received a sharp smack to his bum for that, and then a kiss and a rub to make it all better. He laughed into the kiss, then groaned as Christian increased the urgency of his teasing squeezes. “I  _really_ need to go...” he whined, helpless in the face of Christian's ministrations.

“Zainab's going to know one way or the other,” Christian murmured, ducking his head down to press kisses to Syed's throat. “You go in now, she'll know. You go in late, she'll know. Way I figure it, you should choose the option that lets you have another go at me.”

Battle well and truly lost. Syed sighed and rolled over onto his back, spread-eagle. Christian took the obvious invitation with a second's thought, climbing on top of Syed and beaming down at him. “I hate you,” Syed reminded Christian, even as his body started to move and awaken to him. 

Christian laughed. “You love it.”

Lifting a hand to touch the side of Christian's face, Syed stopped him, made sure their gazes were locked. “I do,” he replied, with all the sincerity in his body. Christian's smile in reply melted Syed's heart.

5.] Poker Face

Syed's eyes flickered between Christian and his mum, face set in some sort of trying-not-to-look-horrified mockery of a smile. Christian's gaze was trained on his plate, eating Zainab's cooking steadily and occasionally look up to make noises of approval. Zainab was slowly destroying a piece of lamb beneath her knife and fork, cutting it into smaller and smaller pieces as she glared first at Christian, then at Masood. Meanwhile Masood himself has sporting an expression similar to Syed's, trying to keep up the good cheer and not make waves and only partially failing at it. 

“Lovely cooking,” Christian said out of the blue, breaking the silence. He smiled over at Zainab on his left. Zainab practically grimaced back.

“Yes, well. Sure it's better than what you're used to. Between Jane and...” she hesitated, glancing over at Syed. He ducked his head and decided not to rise to the bait. His mum could say whatever she wanted tonight, so long as there was no 'forbidding' being bandied around. Not mentioning Amira would be a big plus, too: Syed had barely managed to convince her to go to the meeting this evening without arousing her suspicions. 

Zainab cleared he throat, glancing at Syed. “So how's the business going? Amira's at a... meeting?”

Syed nodded, wiping his mouth on his napkin before he replied. Across the table Christian was looking at him with poorly disguised mirth. Syed kicked him discreetly under the table. “Great, great. Everything's going smoothly. Amira's just double-checking with one of the distributors tonight, making sure we'll have everything on time.”

Smug grin in place, Zainab turned to Christian. “Syed's running a very successful business you know. With Amira. Do you...” she waved a finger questioningly. “Do you own any shares in that gym you work at?”

At the head of the table Masood coughed warningly. Zainab ignored him, and continued to smile sweetly at Christian. Sweet like cyanide. 

Of course, leave it to Christian to keep up with Zainab blow-for-blow. “No, just working there. But it's going great: got a ton of clients. How's work at the- oh.” Christian returned Zainab's smile. Syed shivered. That looked  _way_ too much like his mum to not be disturbing. “Right,” Christian continued, voice like honey. “You're not working right now, are you?”

Syed sighed and poked at his food. Honestly, things were going about a thousand times better than he could have imagined: no mention of Yusef, or Quadim, or any of the most sensitive subjects in their shared history. Really, Mum disparaging Christian's job and Christian Zainab's lack of was practically  _teasing_ for the two of them. Syed should be downright proud.

Though really, he was just counting the minutes until it'd be acceptable to say their goodbyes and he could walk Christian back to his house. And maybe join him inside for a post-dinner “coffee”. Syed glanced across the table at Christian and saw him leaning forward, grinning madly at Zainab. 

“So!” Masood cut in, rising from his seat. “Why don't we get dessert ready? Zee? Kitchen?”

Zainab sputtered, glancing between her son and Christian. Syed snorted. It was like she expected Christian to leap across the table and start ravaging him as soon as they were left alone. 

“Zee.” Masood's voice was a bit more forceful this time. Reluctantly, Zainab stood and started clearing their plates before following Masood dutifully to the kitchen. 

Christian grinned. “Don't,” Syed warned.

“What?”

“ _Don't_.” 

But there were grins on both their faces until they ended up bursting into a fit of giggles, which is how Masood and Zainab found them a minute later when they entered with the dessert.

**

“And where do you think you're going?”

Syed stopped dead in his tracks, the tone of his mother's voice perfectly calibrated to send a chill down his spine. He turned, eyes wide like Tamwar caught doing stand-up, as he looked between his mum and dad. Christian stood behind him, one hand on the doorknob and shrugging on his jacket with his other arm.

“I was just...” Syed started. He glanced at his dad, though really he didn't know why he'd expect any help from him.

To his surprise Masood waved a hand as he tried, unsuccessfully, to hide a smile. “For God's sake, Zee. Let the poor boy walk Christian home.”

Zainab hesitated, eyes flickering between Syed and Christian so fast Syed feared they'd fall out of her head. “But-”

“Zee.”

Zainab glared at them – at  _Christian,_ really – before she held her wrist up and pointed at the watch there. “Five minutes!”

“Zee.”

Spinning around, Zainab glared at Masood, one hand held behind her and gesturing viciously at the two men. “But-”

Masood shook his head, placing a placating hand on his wife's arm. “Come on. Let's go upstairs. No timing.”

“But-”

“Come on.”

Syed let out a breath, shooting his dad a grateful look. As his parents went upstairs, Syed felt Christian's hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. He turned around with a grin, gazing up at Christian. 

“Come on,” he said with a wink. “Walk me home.”

His not-so-subtle leer had Syed melting into his arms, tilting his head up for a quick kiss against the door.

“Hey!”

Both men jumped apart as Zainab's voice reached them from the top of the stairs. 

“None of that! Not under my roof!”

Christian laughed. “Good thing  _my_ roof's just next door then, isn't it, love?”

Syed and Christian were out the front door faster than Tamwar in a sport store. Their laughter – and Zainab's shouting – followed them all the way to Christian's doorstep.

6.] Inappropriate Partner Stakes 

Syed squeezed Christian's hand in gratitude as they stepped through the hospital doors together. Christian's glove-clad hand squeezed back, holding on tight. Syed was so grateful for the support. He was tired of being the strong one all the time – it was such a relief to lean on Christian once in a while. 

“Hey, Tambo,” Syed said quietly. Tamwar's eyes were open, but sometimes he kept his eyes open when he was in those drug-induced sleeps. 

But Tamwar was apparently actually awake, because he shifted on the bed, just slightly. “Hey,” he mumbled. Then he frowned and squinted at the space next to him that Christian was occupying. “Who... okay, that blur is a lot less brown than anyone in our family.”

Christian laughed as Syed went to Tamwar's bedside and helped him slip his glasses over the bandaged and damaged section of his face. “Christian? What're you doing here? Amira finally jet off into the sunset?”

Syed groaned, dragging a chair up to Tamwar's bedside and motioning for Christian to do the same. “I wish. No. But...” he glanced at Christian, smiling tentatively. “Amira and I are getting a divorce. I got her to agree to it: all that's left is to sign the papers.”

Tamwar moved his head a bit in a sort of barely-there nod. “Right, so only a hundred things to go wrong between now and then. Great.”

Christian's head ducked as he laughed. Tamwar's gaze shifted to him, traveling up and down as if he was confirming Christian's presence in his hospital room. “How're you, then? Alright?”

Christian turned to Syed, smiling softly. Syed smiled back, heart warm as he watched that easy smile slip over Christian's face. He knew that he had put it there: he was the reason for Christian's happiness. And just that bit of knowledge made Syed smile all the more broadly. Gently Christian placed a hand on Tamwar's knee, stroking softly. “Alright, yeah. Of course, I'm not the hero of the hour.”

Rolling his eyes, Tamwar grumbled: “Yeah, well, you didn't think your wife was in a burning building.” 

“Tam-” Syed started. Afia and Tamwar still weren't right with each other, and that bothered Syed. The two belonged together just as much as... well, just as much as himself and Christian.

But Tamwar cut Syed off. “Please. Not now, Syed. How about you two? You're back on?”

Syed glanced at Christian, just the smallest bit hesitant. But then Christian was reaching over and taking Syed's gloved hand in his, and answering for him. “Yeah. Yeah, looks like that way. Your mum and dad's just about had conniptions, trying to accept us and all.”

Tamwar laughed. “Mum, trying not to insult you?”

Christian laughed. “Whoa, whoa. Don't go that far. I said she was trying to accept us, not embracing all the wonderfulness that is Christian Clarke.”

Tamwar laughed weakly, but Syed could tell the small smile on his face was genuine. “That's good,” he said. “It was all wrong with you two split up. So, Syed: that mean I get your room, finally?”

Again, Syed hesitated, glancing at Christian. He almost preferred conversations with his parents: at least they spent so much time trying to ignore their relationship that they never actually made him and Christian think about it. Tamwar, on the other hand, really knew how to get to the meat of the matter. “We're taking it slow,” he finally settled on. He received an approving nod from Christian.

But Tamwar wasn't so easily assured. “Why? You two love each other. A sickening amount, really. You should get on with it. Plus: I really want your room. So move back in together before I get out of here, yeah?”

Syed laughed, touching his hand to Tamwar's good shoulder. “Alright,” he promised. “I'll see what we can do about it, okay?”

They spent another hour visiting with Tamwar, until a fresh wave of drugs kicked in and Tamwar ended up drifting off between one sentence and the next. As quietly as they could Christian and Syed set the room to rights, putting the chairs back and tugging the blankets up over Tamwar. Then they snuck out, not talking again until they were out of their clean suits.

“How about it?”

Syed frowned as he pushed his disposable clean suit into the bin. “Sorry?”

He turned to see Christian staring at him, expression openly hopeful. “What Tamwar said. How about it?”

Syed's heart skipped a beat, then seemed to stop all together. “About... moving? In with-” Syed stopped. He almost didn't want to say it, too afraid that Christian might still reject him.

But then Christian took a step forward, linking his hands with Syed's own. Syed's breath stuttered, his eyes watering as he waited for Christian to speak. “I'm done denying myself,” Christian whispered. “I'm done waiting. I want you  _back_ , Syed. I want you back in our home with me. I want to wake up with you in the morning and fight over the conditioner. I want to yell at you for clogging up the drain with your hair-”

Syed's laugh was more of a sob as he interrupted Christian. “Your chest hair is at least half of it,” he pointed out.

Christian's laugh wasn't entirely lacking that choked-up quality either as he smiled down at Syed, tears in his eyes. “Only one way to find out,” he tempted. “So? What do you say? Give us another shot?”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Syed nodded his head vigorously, hair flopping in his eyes. “I want that,” Syed replied. “I want all that, too. Every morning noon and night. For the rest of my life.”

“Then come home, Syed.”

So Syed did.

  



End file.
